


The Way It’s Done

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Dominance, F/M, Femdom, Post-Canon, Treat, erotic eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:00:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27465331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: It takes Sarah time to realize what she wants
Relationships: Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31
Collections: Femdom Exchange 2020





	The Way It’s Done

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alamorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamorn/gifts).



> I hope you like the treat!

It took her several months before figuring out how to actually access the Labyrinth and her friends at will. Sarah had no idea where the fancy words in her books had come from, though now having met him, their over-dramatic nature smacked of Jareth. The idea that it was as simple as saying “I wish” was revolutionary. How were children not whisked away on a daily basis?

Hoggle and the others simply shrugged and said “that is the way it’s done.” It was a wholly unsatisfying answer, but the best she could get, and eventually Sarah stopped wondering about the little details.

It took her several years before Sarah figured out what Jareth had been offering her that day. In her defense, she was fairly sheltered, and college was eye opening in many ways. She double majored in history and literature, with an emphasis on folklore, mythology, and fairy tales. Her mythology classes had done more for her understanding of innuendo than anything else, and also drew some parallels to her own experiences.

Other than the labyrinth being a direct correlation to the labyrinth in Greek mythology, Sarah realized many of the mistakes she had made. Mythology was full of examples of heroes who ignored their instructions, or dismissed offers of help from those they thought were beneath them, and it never ended well for them. Sarah was mature enough to recognize that she had been prideful, and her fear had made her short-tempered enough to make some classic blunders.

Sarah was also struck by the story of Persephone and Hades. Had Jareth’s peach been similar to Hades’ pomegranate? Was she destined now to spend part of her life in the labyrinth? Or was it destined to spend part of its life with her? The visits from her friends had tapered off, but never stopped entirely. Could she still somehow be in its thrall?

For a brief moment she considered that this world was just another peach, making her think she had won and returned, but she doubted that Jareth could pull off something this detailed. The fact that she sometimes thought she saw him out of the corner of her eye was completely coincidental.

It took her almost two decades before Sarah gave up on the real world. It was disappointing, and drab, and she was sick of hearing excuses for why she couldn’t succeed in her field. Dating was just as boring; she just couldn’t seem to meaningfully connect with anyone.

There was nothing particularly special about that afternoon; it’s sameness to every other afternoon was part of the problem, in fact. And yet, as she got up to make another pot of coffee, the thought ghosted through her mind.

_I wish I could return to the Labyrinth._

The walls around her began to blur, her dark apartment seeming to bend and contort in the distance.

With a gasp, Sarah jumped backwards, dropping her coffee cup. The sound of it shattering snapped her out of it, and suddenly she was back in her little apartment, just like always. But the image haunted her. Could she go back? _Should_ she go back?

More importantly, _why_ shouldn’t she?

Impulsively, Sarah glanced down; her plain white tee and jeans were fine, as were her simple sneakers. But she grabbed her worn plaid flannel jacket off her chair. It was fall colors, shades of oranges and browns, and she pulled it on to ward off the chill. Keys, wallet, phone; none of the things she would usually grab before leaving would do her any good where she was going, but Sarah did snag her sunglasses and slide them on to her head. 

As ready as she was going to get, Sarah firmly announced to the empty room, “I wish I could return to the labyrinth.” This time, when the walls began to bend, Sarah willed them to continue. She _wanted_ this, and want, as near as she could tell, was what powered the wish.

With a sickening lurch, her apartment dissolved, and Sarah found herself atop the same hill, staring down over the labyrinth. It was dingy and brown, the sky smoggy above her, but it looked more vibrant than anything Sarah had seen in a while. Still, it could be better. Screwing her eyes closed, Sarah pictured it; towering green trees, just beginning to change with the seasons, crisp blue sky with puffy white clouds scuttling across it. And the labyrinth itself, cleaned and tidy: dead branches, piles of leaves, and crumbled walls gone, but not sterile and modern and lacking charm. Ivy and flowering vines growing along the walls in places, and water running clean and sparkling blue.

She couldn’t describe it, but Sarah felt the world _shift_ , sort of like her ears popping but with her whole body. Opening her eyes, Sarah saw the world of the Labyrinth had transformed, just as she had wished it. She let out a delighted laugh. Part of Sarah wanted to run and celebrate with her friends, but she had a call to make first. She and Jareth had some things to get straight.

Closing her eyes, Sarah wished to appear in the throne room. With another full body pop, she was there. She spared a moment of commiseration for her younger self; if only she had known how easy it could be, instead of thinking that it _had_ to be a chore! She hadn’t understood at the time, when they told her “Because that is how it’s done,” that it was her own rules she was following.

Opening her eyes, Sarah found herself indeed inside the throne room, a few feet beside the throne. Jareth was standing at the window, probably observing the changes she had wrought. Sarah took the chance to slide sideways onto the throne, lounging with one leg over the arm the way Jareth used to.

“I see you’ve been making changes,” Jareth said quietly, without turning.

“My tastes have changed,” Sarah admitted loftily.

Jareth turned then, and she was both surprised and unsurprised to see that he hadn’t changed a bit. His hair was just as wispy and disheveled, and he was wearing a loose white shirt and tight grey pants.

Sarah considered him, and her mind instantly flashed back to a small collage she had made for a project in her art history class. Before her eyes, he transformed. His loose ruffled shirt was now black, with a blood red corset vest over it. The grey pants became a deep black-red. His knee-high black boots remained, and his new black leather jacket just brushed their tops.

“Much better,” Sarah nodded.

Jareth looked down at himself with a little surprise, then smirked back at her. “If you say so, My Lady.”

“Hmmm…” There was still something missing, Sarah realized, but she couldn’t yet put her finger on it.

Jareth waved his hand in a complex motion and a pedestal appeared beside the throne. Distantly, Sarah thought she heard quiet goblin snickers. Atop the pedestal was a bowl of perfectly ripe fruit. Prominently displayed on top was a gloriously ripe, golden peach. Sarah knew that if she was to indulge in a daste, it would be juicy and crisp and better than anything she could find in her local farmer’s market.

But this wasn’t Jareth’s fantasy anymore; it was her’s. Sarah began picking through the fruit, looking for what she wanted. Then, casually, with her off hand, she pointed at the steps beneath her.

Carefully glancing sideways through her eyelashes, Sarah saw him glide forward and sprawl on the stairs at her feet. One leg was cocked, his foot resting on the step above, in a way that thrust out his already prominent bulge. Not that Sarah minded.

Finally finding what she was looking for, Sarah pulled a pomegranate from the bowl. She held it down to Jareth, but he didn’t take it from her as she expected. Instead, he shifted until he was kneeling, leaned forward, and bit into it while it remained in her hand. Thick red juice squished around his mouth and between her fingers. She watched in fascination as a small amount trailed down her wrist, wrapping around it like a bracelet until a single drop fell to the clean grey flagstones below.

“Say it,” She demanded, her voice only slightly less firm than she would like.

“Fear me, love me, do as I say and I shall be your slave,” Jareth murmured.

Sarah lightly tugged on his flowing collar and he obediently rose to meet her. “I accept,” she whispered, before crushing her mouth onto his.

It took her twenty years before she was ready to claim her rightful place as the Labyrinth’s queen, fulfilling a role she hadn’t known how to accept all those years ago. From then on, she had every wish her heart desired, including the unquestioning devotion of her Goblin King, kneeling beside her throne. Because that was the way it was done.


End file.
